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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424998">a family of dragons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/pseuds/independentalto'>independentalto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chinese New Year</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:06:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/pseuds/independentalto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>May doesn't celebrate Chinese New Year unless it's with family. Maybe it's time she let the one she found celebrate with her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a family of dragons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/gifts">agentmmayy</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Coulson didn’t even know why he was nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, that was a lie -- he knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was nervous, and despite every fiber of his being screaming at him that there was no need to be nervous, there was something that still begged him to be. Glancing down at the box in his hands, Coulso took another deep inhale before scurrying around the corner much like a mouse. Another corner down, another five to go. He could make it. All he had to do was not get caught by Melinda --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phil, what are you doing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Startled, Coulson yelped and nearly dropped the box. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Speak of the devil and she shall appear. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Mel!” he asked, trying to stuff the box behind his back. “I, uh, I didn’t see you there.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t ask about the box, please don’t ask about the box...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>May looked from the box hastily shoved behind his back to the guilt written all over his face. “Phil, what’s in the box?” The last time she’d seen him shrewdly carrying around a box, she’d found tinsel strewn everywhere in the Lighthouse, from the kitchen to the showers. She squinted. “This had better not be the Valentine’s version of the tinsel. It’s not even February.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but that’s a good idea,” Coulson squeaked out, clutching the box tighter. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple, making May squint even heaver. “It’s nothing big, Mel, really --”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>May crossed her arms. Coulson gulped. “Then I don’t suppose you mind telling me what’s in the box?” Another few seconds passed. The original drop of sweat slid down Coulson’s cheek and made the drop to the floor. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s in the box, Phil?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s mooncake!” Coulson blurted out, then mentally smacked himself in the head. “I, uh, got a box of mooncake.” Shyly, he offered May the box. “I thought it would be cool for Chinese New Year...” When May continued to do nothing but stare, the beginnings of a massive wince began to form in Coulson’s shoulders. Maybe he shouldn’t have bought the mooncake. Maybe he was overstepping some massive boundaries by buying the box. He was white, after all, and this wasn’t his holiday...?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phil, why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you think moon cake would be a good idea for Chinese New Year?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>dead. “Do...do you guys not have Chinese New Year moon cake?” Why hadn’t he consulted with Daisy first on this? At least he would’ve had some idea about it before he’d gallivanted off to the nearest Chinese supermarket. (Come to think of it, he probably would’ve cut his time there by a significant amount if he’d brought Daisy. Ah, well. Next year. If he survived to next year.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately for him, May’s lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile. “We were together in the Academy for </span>
  <em>
    <span>how long</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Phil?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coulson did the fastest mental math he’d ever done in his life. “Five years?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five years,” May confirmed, still smiling. “And at any time in those five years, did you see me eating moon cake during Chinese New Year?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coulson sagged. “...no?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why would you think we had moon cake during Chinese New Year?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just...I don’t know,” Defeated, Coulson handed the box over. “I just haven’t seen you celebrate in ages, Mel. Every time we even get around to this time of year, there’s always something that gets in the way.” He didn’t have to mention the fact that she spent every year locked in the cockpit -- the silence between them did that on its own. “I just wanted you to be able to celebrate for once, you know? With us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, May took the box, the smile on her face now gone. “I do that for a reason.” She cracked open the tin, staring forlornly down at the moon cakes. “Chinese New Year is about family. Never really celebrated it with anyone else but my parents.” SHIELD’s recent activities had left her stranded in past years, unable to even call home to wish her parents a happy new year. “It’s not...it’s not the same, you know?” Looking up, she met Coulson’s eyes. “Like not being able to celebrate Christmas with your family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So let us be your family,” Coulson suggested, tapping the box with two fingers. “I know we’re not the family you’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have -- trust me, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have Hunter in my family either -- but family can be found, Mel. You found us. Let us help you celebrate the things that are important to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>May bit back the retort of ‘actually, I found all of you’ and smiled instead, fishing out a moon cake and sliding it over to Coulson. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “In the meantime...thanks, Phil.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mention it,” he replied, and before May could stop him, he took a large bite out of the moon cake. “Mmmf mmmph mmm mmm!” His exclamations could barely be heard over May’s gut-clenching laughter. “Mmmm mmm mmph mm!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get you some water,” she chuckled, and left Coulson with his jaw still stuck shut to head to the kitchen. She had some red envelopes to fill. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>May hummed to herself as she tiptoed down the dark hallway, a sheaf of red envelopes in her hand. One by one, they were slid under the doors to the sleeping quarters: two for Mack, two for Elena, four for FitzSimmons (who did they think they were kidding, not sleeping in the same room) and two for Piper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slid one under Bobbi’s door and skipped over Hunter and Davis entirely -- after all, they were currently divorced, and two, Hunter hadn’t paid her back for the last round of Thai food. The guilt nagged at her all the way down the hallway, however, and finally, she turned around and slid two under Davis’ door with a sigh. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>married, but his wife was raising their kid alone. That was basically like being single, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy’s room was a different story. After a quick swipe of her keycard, May clicked the door open almost silently and slid into Daisy’s room. The young Inhuman was spread-eagled out across her bed, loud snores filling the room. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’d think the Inhuman gene would cure you of all awful human traits, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she mused as she slid over to Daisy’s bedside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Apparently they just make them worse. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She hadn’t, after all, remembered Daisy snoring so horribly before she’d gone into the Kree temple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting the pillow, May gently began to slide Daisy’s two red envelopes under the pillow. Gently...gently...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>SLAM. In a split second, May had gone from trying to ease the little envelopes under the pillow to pinned up against the wall, a palm ready and poised to aim. “...Daisy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha...” Blinking sleepily, Daisy lowered her hand and let May off of the wall. “May, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>are you doing in my room? It’s 3AM!” Don’t get her wrong, she loved May almost like a second mother, but this was something a little too far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, May held up the envelopes and handed them to Daisy. “You went to bed early,” she explained. “I didn’t get a chance to put these under your pillow.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy took the envelopes, switching on the light and plopping onto the bed to examine them. “Red envelopes?” she murmured before checking her phone. “For Chinese New Year?” A glance at May confirmed her suspicions. “May, are these red envelopes for Chinese New Year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>May felt her back stiffen, but forced herself to spit out the words with gentle care. “They are,” she confirmed, sitting on the side of the bed next to Daisy. “Every night before the start of Chinese New Year, parents are supposed to put red envelopes under their kids’ pillows. It’s tradition.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Parents....kids?” she murmured. “Did you slide these under anyone else’s pillows?” May cast her a knowing look. “Seeing as you woke </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>up, I’m gonna say no.” Still the knowing look. “You wouldn’t want to sneak into anyone else’s room. I’m gonna say no again.” When there was still no response, Daisy just hugged her. “Thanks, May.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phil said to let people help me celebrate the things I want to celebrate,” May said quietly. “I think celebrating things like Chinese New Year are the things I want you to experience, too.” With a pang, she realized that Daisy had never been dressed in little new year suits or bonded with her parents over </span>
  <em>
    <span>jai </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun shi</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “You missed out on a lot of experiences, Johnson,” she hummed. “And I’m going to make sure you experience every single one of them. Even when I take you to get a chicken.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy looked up at her with alarm. “I have to get a chicken?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>May just smiled cheerfully and patted her on the head before getting up. “I’d brush up on your Mandarin. We touch down at 1030 hours tomorrow.” </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“May, you never said we were getting a </span>
  <em>
    <span>live </span>
  </em>
  <span>chicken!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mention it?” May murmured, pretending to check her nails. The two of them were standing outside a crowded livery, waiting their turn to get into the shop. “Well, sorry, Johnson. We’re here now. You’re gonna get us a live chicken.” She remembered fondly the first time </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>mother had forced her to order them the chicken -- May had stammered the whole way through, cheeks ablaze, and it’d taken her approximately five minutes to get her request out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Then again, she’d also been three. But she wasn’t about to tell Daisy that.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When Coulson said we’d help you celebrate tradition, I don’t think he meant this,” A squawk echoed from the confines of the shop, and Daisy swore she could feel a feather trying to make its way into her nose. “I think he meant the non-gross ones. You know, like red envelopes and lion dancing. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>ones.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>May shot her an amused look. “I thought you said your Mandarin was pretty good.” It sounded better than hers, anyways -- at least, what she’d heard from Daisy cursing the cab driver out all the way to Chinatown. “Look, if you can get us the chicken, I’ll get all the other ingredients we need for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>jai </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun shi. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll even make the </span>
  <em>
    <span>lo bak go </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re so crazy about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d better come through on that,” Daisy muttered as they edged into the shop. “And my Mandarin’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Bobbi’s helping me brush up.” Bobbi, who was unfortunately undercover at the moment...which meant that Daisy’s lessons had fallen seriously behind. “At any rate, I don’t think I could order a chicken.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, a wave of people pushed Daisy forward, and she found herself staring down the butcher. “Uh, hi,” she said nervously. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wǒ néng gěi wǒ gè jī ma?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Duōshǎo bàng?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” The butcher repeated the phrase, this time with a slight look of amusement on his face. “It’s not funny,” she scowled at him before turning to look for May in panic. “May?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask for two, five pounds each,” May yelled. Nodding, Daisy turned back to the butcher. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tāmen liǎng gè, měi gè wǔ bàng,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she got out before handing the money over. By this point, several people had turned to look at her in deep amusement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably wondering what this whitewashed girl was doing in a livery, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Daisy mused. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They’re about half right, I guess. </span>
  </em>
  <span>In return for her embarrassment, she received two bulging plastic bags that revealed two freshly murdered chicken carcasses. “Gross,” she muttered before heading back to May. “I am never ordering chicken for us again,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did good,” May hummed. “I thought the lady behind you was going to skin you alive, though. I could hear her cursing you out under her breath because you were so slow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy scoffed. “I was not slow!” She’d tried her best -- didn’t that count for anything at all? Sighing, she slung the bags into a shopping cart and followed May into the supermarket they’d just walked into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, if she was lucky, she could sneak a jar of jelly sticks into the cart and call it the single item May always let her get whenever they went grocery shopping.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Agent May, you really didn’t have to,” Simmons said later that night when all of them emerged into the kitchen. The scent of oil and garlic filled the air, leading Fitz to sniff hopefully as he entered. “First the envelopes, and now this? It’s too much, really,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>May just pointed at the counter, which was currently groaning with dishes she’d been whipping out of the wok. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Jai</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the table, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>stick the chopsticks straight up in the air, and make sure you remember that Mack always eats the biggest bowls of rice. Fitz, I’ve got a couple of chickens that need chopping. You know how to take apart a chicken?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-y-yes, Agent May.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Cleaver’s in the side drawer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coulson had to hold back a smile when he saw May at the stove. It seemed she’d taken his suggestion seriously after all. “Celebrating Chinese New Year, I see,” he murmured, sidling up to the stove. “What happened to celebrating it only with your family?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little birdie once told me sometimes our families are chosen,” May hummed, drizzling some oil into the wok. “And that maybe I should let my chosen family celebrate with me every once in a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smart birdie.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, said birdie also had an affinity for </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun shi</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” May chuckled, pointing at a bowl next to her. “That bowl’s just yours. The rest is for everyone else. We do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>need a repeat of my mother’s house in ‘97.” The squeak that came from Coulson was almost lost to the dogs, and the director quickly scooped up the bowl and retreated to a corner, giving anyone who looked his way dramatically suspicious looks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, you got red envelopes?” Sliding the rest of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun shi </span>
  </em>
  <span>into a larger bowl, May carried it over to the table just as Hunter threw his hands in the air, looking frustrated. “I didn’t get any red envelopes!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because </span>
  <em>
    <span>lai see </span>
  </em>
  <span>are only given out to people who </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren’t married,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>May said pointedly, setting the bowl onto the table. “And last I checked, you were married </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>divorced. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>shorting me on that Thai order we got two weeks ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a flash, Elena was at the fridge and back with some ice for Hunter, which she offered with a jovial grin. “Do you need some ice for that burn, Hunter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grumbling, Hunter slapped a twenty into May’s outstretched palm to uproarious laughter. In turns, she gave him a red envelope. “Happy Chinese New Year, Hunter.” When he tried to open it, she just slapped him upside the head. “You open them at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>end</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you idiot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To Chinese New Year,” Coulson called, raising a beer in the air. “To the next 14 days, wherever they might take us.” May smiled and raised her own beer. As she watched all of them dig in and exclaim muffled compliments about her cooking, she couldn’t help but feel content. Somewhere along the way, she’d made this little ragtag team her family, the Lighthouse her home. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She could get used to that. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <i>“Wǒ néng gěi wǒ gè jī ma?”<i> - can I get a chicken, please?<br/><i>“Duōshǎo bàng?”<i> - how many pounds?<br/><i>“Tāmen liǎng gè, měi gè wǔ bàng,”<i> - two of them, five pounds each. </i></i></i></i></i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>I, unfortunately, can't speak Mandarin, so I let Google Translate do the work for me. Please let me know if I got anything wrong!</i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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